


Pizza

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Food, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Honey, no offense, but where the hell do you think you’re going?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pizza

“Honey, no offense, but where the hell do you think you’re going?” Jim asked, leaping in front of the door before Richard could reach it. The younger twin looked at him and sniffled, shrugging his shoulders, staring blankly at Jim.

“Work,” Richard replied hoarsely, then coughed into his elbow, moving a hand up to rub at his eyes.

“Richie, you’re sick, you’re not going anywhere,” Jim insisted, grabbing Richard’s shoulder and turning him around, almost pushing him backwards. Richard tried to push Jim away, but failed and gave up with a shrug.

“We’re doing an important shoot today,” Richard rasped, coughing again.

“You’re so pale and you sound like you swallowed sand,” Jim replied, taking a now more pliant Richard back into the bedroom, laying him down next to Sebastian, who was still sleeping.

“Feels like it,” Richard mumbled, pushing Jim off and wandering into the closet, exchanging his jeans for sweat pants.

In the meantime, Jim shoved Sebastian off the bed, nearly getting hit in the mouth, just shaking his head sternly in explanation. Richard appeared in the doorway of the closet, and Jim smiled warmly at him, Sebastian staring blearily.

Richard sauntered back over to the bed and collapsed, curling up and pulling blankets over himself.

“Could you call the studio?” he asked from his nest and Jim nodded, dragging Sebastian by the wrist out of the room.

“What are you doing?” Sebastian asked when they were out of the bedroom and the door was closed. Jim pressed a finger the taller man’s lips and dropped his hand moving into the kitchen.

“Richard’s sick,” he announced and Sebastian glared.

“So?”

“What do I do? He’s never been sick before.”

Sebastian sighed a sigh only achievable if you’ve lived with Jim fucking Moriarty for more than a year. Richard was the only other one able to pull off ‘the sigh’ and it was far more long-suffering than Sebastian’s.

“Make him tea?” Sebastian offered, collapsing at the kitchen table, leaning his head down on his arms. It had been his day off, he’d planned on not waking up until he’d gotten at least another three hours of sleep.

“Tea’s boring,” Jim replied smugly and threw a spoon at Sebastian’s back.

Sebastian jerked, nearly falling off his chair in surprise. Jim laughed at him.

“What else do you suggest?” Sebastian grumbled, picking up the spoon and throwing it back at Jim, who dodged it. The utensil went flying into the living room, landing softly on the sofa.

“I dunno. Soup? Pizza?”

“Why would a sick man want pizza?”

“Richard buys me pizza when I’m sick, people don’t do that?”

Sebastian sighed again and shook his head. “Soup is the more common remedy,” he said. Jim nodded knowingly and climbed up onto the counter, opening the cupboard and looking inside.

“We don’t have any soup,” he called over his shoulder. Sebastian nodded.

“Yes,” he forced out, “because you don’t like soup.”

“Oh. Pizza, then, I guess,” Jim muttered, reaching for his mobile in his pocket, calling the studio first, then the pizza place.

Sebastian had laid his head back down on the table and was drifting when Jim pushed him again, nearly knocking him out of his chair.

“I think he’s sleeping is that normal,” Jim asked. Sebastian bit his tongue and rubbed at his eyes.

“Yeah, people sleep a lot when they’re sick. Are you sure Richie’s never been sick before?” It seemed unlikely, what had probably happened was Richard had probably gotten sick before, he’d just hid it from Jim.

“Not that I know of,” Jim replied tersely and Sebastian decided his theory was true.

There wasn’t even a full minute of silence before Jim was worrying again. “Should I go check on him?”

“No, he’s fine,” Sebastian replied boredly, getting up to put bread in the toaster.

“Are you sure?” Jim was wringing his hands now, his feet swinging off the kitchen table, his face sunken with worry.

“I’m sure, Jim,” Sebastian groaned. “I could go check on him if you need it.”

“Y-yeah, that’d be good. Make sure he’s not dying or anything, okay?”

Sebastian nodded solemnly and stood up, walking into the bedroom where Richard was laying, staring vacantly at the door.

“Hey, Seb,” he said and grinned. He didn’t look all that sick, maybe a head cold, but nothing major.

“Hey. How’re you doing?”

Richard shrugged and coughed. “Did Jim order pizza?”

Sebastian laughed and nodded. “Yeah. Do you need anything?” He moved forward and kissed Richard’s forehead. The skin wasn’t too warm.

“Uh… Tea,” Richard said confidently. “And a book. Or something, I dunno. Could you or Jim or… uh… I… Would one or both of you come lay down with me? If I get you sick I’ll take care of you, okay?”

Sebastian smiled and kissed Richard’s forehead again, going back out into the kitchen, Jim jumped off the table, dashing to meet Sebastian.

“He’s okay?” Jim demanded, looking almost  _scared_  for his brother.

“Yeah, fine,” Sebastian replied, dumping water into the electric kettle and switching it on.

“Why are you making him tea? I told you, tea is boring,” Jim muttered, walking back over to the table and sitting down on a chair this time.

“He asked for it,” Sebastian replied. “He also wants us to lay down with him so he can sleep better and we can eat pizza together.”

Jim glared and sighed, then nodded absently, pulling out his mobile and sending a few texts. They heard the doorbell ring as soon Sebastian was pouring the hot water into Richard’s mug. Jim stood and went to answer the door, Sebastian taking the cup into Richard, who had his eyes closed and head phones plugged in, singing quietly to himself.

“Richie,” Sebastian called quietly, prodding the smaller man in the shoulder, making him jump and open his eyes. Richard smiled a bit weakly and moved over so Sebastian could sit next to him, the tea on the nightstand. “Jim’s bringing you your pizza, love.”

Richard nodded again and coughed, burrowing deeper under the blankets. Sebastian followed him, he hadn’t even changed out of his pajamas that day and he didn’t plan to. today they would all rest and tomorrow they could be criminals and their pet again.

Jim returned with the box of pizza, glaring at Richard and dropping it at the foot of the bed.

“You’re sick,” Jim said cautiously, moving around to the other side of the bed and sitting down.

“Uh-huh,” Richard replied smiling and pressing against Sebastian’s chest, feeling how warm he was opposed to the slight chill Richard had due to his fever.

“Why?”

“I dunno.”

“You’re lying.”

“‘m not.”

Jim hissed through his teeth and lay down on top of the blankets, latching onto the lump of Richard.

“I bought you pizza,” Jim muttered, almost begging for recognition.

“Thanks,” Richard replied, turning his head and kissing his brother’s nose, then turning back to Sebastian.

“Don’t you want any?” Jim nearly yelled, appalled that his brother would deny  _food,_  something Jim had gone to the effort of actually talking to an ordinary person to get.

“Nah. Not now. We could heat it up later,” Richard replied and Jim pouted at him for a while.

Richard fell asleep between the two criminals, curled in on himself, facing Sebastian. It was cute, how Richard looked when he slept. He looked so much more relaxed and open than he could be sometimes.

“If he gets me sick I’ll kill him,” Jim hissed at Sebastian, who chuckled and shook his head.

—-

“Jim you’re not working, you’re sick,” Sebastian insisted a day later, sitting on top of the criminal to keep him in bed.

“Stop!” Jim wheezed. “I’m not sick! I swear! Let me work! Can I have my laptop at least?”

Sebastian clicked his tongue and shook his head. “No. You’re sleeping and that’s final.”

Jim sighed wearily and nodded. “Fine,” he muttered. “Still killing Richard, though.”


End file.
